


Shimmer

by wynnebat



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Future Fic, Getting Together, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, POV Chris Argent, Skinny Dipping, Stiles' A+ seduction tactics, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-09 19:51:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16456232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wynnebat/pseuds/wynnebat
Summary: Chris opens his eyes and looks up into the darkness for a long moment. He’d known he should’ve insisted on a single room. The pack had stopped at the first motel in sight for a night, all weary from their return trip from helping the Bellevue pack with their kanima problem, and Chris hadn’t paid nearly enough attention until he’d collapsed onto his bed and heard Stiles walk in behind him. Stiles, who’s now rustling for his key card.“Going somewhere?” Chris asks. His eyes have adjusted to the night enough for him to see the outline of Stiles’ full-body scramble as he realizes he’s woken Chris up.“Sorry,” Stiles whispers. In deference to the night, it must be, because Chris is completely awake now. “I’m going for a swim. You wanna join me?”





	Shimmer

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by anonymous. 
> 
> #75. “I’m going for a swim. Do you wanna join me?”

Chris wakes to moonlight filtering through the open curtains of the motel room. He stays still for a moment. It’s not the light that broke his slumber. It’s a rustle somewhere to his left, at least a yard away, not coming closer. It’s the thud of someone’s foot hitting the wooden leg of the other bed in the room and it’s a hushed, pained, “ _Fuck_ ,” that breaks the night’s silence. Chris opens his eyes and looks up into the darkness for a long moment. He’d known he should’ve insisted on a single room. The pack had stopped at the first motel in sight for a night, all weary from their return trip from helping the Bellevue pack with their kanima problem, and Chris hadn’t paid nearly enough attention until he’d collapsed onto his bed and heard Stiles walk in behind him. Stiles, who’s now rustling for his key card. 

“Going somewhere?” Chris asks. His eyes have adjusted to the night enough for him to see the outline of Stiles’ full-body scramble as he realizes he’s woken Chris up. 

“Sorry,” Stiles whispers. In deference to the night, it must be, because Chris is completely awake now. “I’m going for a swim. You wanna join me?”

“The gate is probably locked,” Chris tells him. It’s not a no. It’s a hot summer night and the air conditioning has been making wheezing sounds all night as it tries to bring the temperature of the room down a single degree. 

Stiles shrugs. “Are you telling me you can’t climb a fence? It’s even a normal fence, no electricity or barbed wire or ghost dog guards.” He makes a face. “Damn, growing up in Beacon Hills has fucked up my standards.” His hand audibly knocks against something. “Hah.” The key card, Chris assumes. “I’m going whether you join me or not. I’m sick of feeling like I’m sweating out of my skin, but it’ll be better with company.”

Chris is sitting up by the time the door closes behind Stiles. It’s impulsive, but after three days fraught with stress, he wants a bit of easy impulsivity. Worst case scenario, they’re asked to stop. After a series of days where the worst case scenario had been even more people dying, it feels good. When he opens the door, he sees Stiles turning down the hallway. Chris ghosts after him, unable to do anything else. 

It’s on the tip of his tongue to ask if Stiles wants to invite the others. Two by two, the hallway is lined with their pack. Stiles would take him up on it if Chris offered, probably by knocking loudly on the doors and yelling about an impromptu party. It would wake up the whole motel, while two people could slip into the pool unnoticed more easily. Chris says nothing. He doesn’t worry about being caught; the motel would just add a surcharge to the pack’s card. No, he just wants this, him and Stiles, sneaking out through the back entrance. A night breeze through his hair, an easy stretch of his muscles as he and Stiles make their way over the fence. 

He hadn’t brought swim trunks. Chris had intended to simply strip to his boxers when he finds Stiles had something else in mind. He watches Stiles slip out of his clothes, his naked body illuminated only by moonlight and faint light from the few motel rooms with a light still on, their curtains closed. 

“Did you give up on subtlety?” It slips out before his mind can catch it, his gaze still lingering on places other than Stiles’ face. 

Stiles grins and walks off the edge of the pool, the water taking him with a splash. Hypnosis broken, Chris looks toward the building, but there are no immediate repercussions. They are alone, he and Stiles.

After a few moments, Stiles comes up for air, his hair slicked back with water and his eyes blinking thrice. Chris is too far away to see the water on his eyelashes. 

After so much bullshit and denial, he stands atop a precipice, the ground beneath him soft and yielding. He’d ignored Stiles for most of the evening after the two of them had been assigned to the same room. Pair the humans, Stiles had called it, but last time the pack had done something similar it had been Chris and Peter sharing a room. Chris doesn’t doubt that Stiles’ influence was at play this time. Derek’s the one who made the reservations; Chris has no idea what could’ve swayed him to Stiles’ side. Or maybe he does.

Derek’s an inner romantic at heart, Chris has always known, and now with the kids older and able to protect themselves, he’s softer with them. More inclined to let them make their moves and laugh on the sidelines, providing a shoulder to cry on as needed. Chris can imagine the way Stiles convinced Derek. He was probably wearing the same look as he is now, which Chris can see all too easily as Stiles swims to the edge of the pool and rests his arms on the curved concrete. 

There’s a curve to his lips, a lightness to his eyes, and Chris feels as though he’s drowning without even taking a step into the water. “Come on, Chris.”

“You’re impossible,” Chris tells him, but he does as Stiles requests. 

Stiles doesn’t turn his gaze away as Chris begins to strip. He pauses for a moment when he reaches his shorts, but he hooks his thumbs under two layers of fabric. He’s sick of pulling away from Stiles’ not-quite-platonic gestures, tired of turning away from his gaze. It’s easier to do this now, away from Beacon Hills, but Chris knows what he does tonight will ripple through their future. It’s unavoidable. It’s exhilarating. Before long, he’s taking the steps down into the pool, Stiles’ gaze nearly tangible against him. 

Chris doesn’t bother hiding his intentions by swimming a lap. He only bobs down into the water once to feel the refreshing moisture against his face. His lips are still wet when he strides toward Stiles and kisses him like he’s wanted to for far too long. Stiles doesn’t bring a shred of caution to the kiss, doesn’t waste time before gripping Chris’ shoulders and pressing him back against the pool wall. Chris doesn’t intend to run, but he can’t say the pressure isn’t arousing on its own. Stiles’ mouth is hot and the water cool, the contrast heady and the press of skin better than he could’ve hoped for. The curved upper wall of the pool digs into his shoulders, but Chris couldn’t give a damn as he feels Stiles’ hardness against his thigh. 

“Fucking finally,” Stiles murmurs when he pulls away to take a breath. “I was running out of ideas.”

Chris gives a huff of laughter as he brushes away a droplet of water that threatens to slide down into Stiles’ eye. “It was only a matter of time.” And he kisses him again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I'm also on [tumblr](https://crownwithoutstones.tumblr.com/).


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